Donald Trump is a serious monster — an opportunistic, unprincipled, whatever-sounds-right or whatever-flatters-me sociopath. A selfish, loutish Queens-born salesman. A temperamental ADD-afflicted nine year old. Doesn’t read, can’t focus, hasn’t a clue, instinct-driven. But he wants the approval of the N.Y. Times, a paper that he loves, hates and holds in high regard, and so during yesterday’s lunch meeting with Times staffers Trump soft-pedaled his views. He spoke softly and behaved very politely. But deep down he’s an arrogant, pot-bellied dog who only wants to enrich his empire and that of his friends.

Donald Trump during yesterday’s lunch meeting with N.Y. Times staffers. Trump spokesperson Kellyanne Conway sits to his right.

To me his ridiculous views on climate change (i.e., that it’s highly debatable if not a hoax) aren’t all that different than General Jack D. Ripper‘s views about the Communist plot to fluoridate the U.S. water supply.

And yet when Trump shares his fuzzy-brain statements on this or that the mainstream media sounds like General Buck Turgidson, i.e. “We’re still trying to figure out the meaning of that last phrase.” To which President Merkin Muffley said, “There’s nothing to figure out, General…the man is obviously a psychotic.” To which the mainstream media today replies, “Well, we’d like to hold off judgment on a thing like that, Mr. President, until all the facts are in.”

During Donald Trump’s Tuesday chat with several N.Y. Times staffers, columnist Thomas Friedman asked for the President-elect’s views on climate change. Trump basically said “blah blah I don’t want to get into an argument with you guys so I’ll just I’ve just give you a little blah blah to obscure the fact that I’m not much of a sipper of climate change kool-aid.”

What he actually said was (as) “I have an open mind to it,” (b) “We’ve had storms always, Arthur [Sulzberger]” and (c) “You know the hottest day ever was in 1890-something, 98…you know, you can make lots of cases for different views.”

In other words, “Sorry, guys but naaah. I’m basically with the climate deniers. Because I think we need to get those fossil fuel industries rolling again…what matters to me is creating jobs for the bumblefucks who voted for me. The climate can wait. I’m a sociopath…whadaya want from me?”

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A producer friend saw Allied last night, and when she got home she called and said she hated it and claimed that The English Patient, which Allied is roughly similar to — passionate love story during World War II, a couple entwined with British intelligence although one may be in secret cahoots with the Germans**, sexy aura, partial use of a North African setting — is a much better film.

I said okay, maybe but that the general reaction to Allied has been one of approval. If nothing else it reminds that director Robert Zemeckis can be a consummate, old-school filmmaker when he steps out of the fantasy realm, and that he knows how to make an unexceptional story feel more haunting and classically textured than it might seem on the page. Allied didn’t make me do somersaults but I liked it for the most part. It’s a high-toned period popcorn movie — toney, well-crafted, excellent CGI.

Producer pal said she was also reminded of The English Patient due to Allied‘s first act being set in romantic Morocco (mostly Casablanca), and particularly by a lovemaking scene between Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard, one that feels all the more intense due to occuring inside a car that’s parked near picturesque, Lawrence of Arabia-like sand dunes. Patient has a vaguely similar scene in which a heavy North African sandstorm nearly buries a group of travellers, and in fact buries one of their cars completely. Patient certainly romanticizes the desert in similar ways.

One of the strongest scenes in Allied delivers a slap to Pitt’s Max Vatan, a spy-assassin with ties to British intelligence. He’s informed during a meeting with a senior intelligence official (Simon McBurney) and a British officer (Jared Harris) that his wife (Cotillard) may be a German double-agent.*** At first Pitt reacts with anger (he kicks a chair) and denial, but he soon realizes that his only choice is to help clear his wife of suspicion.

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Not these, I mean. I’ve seen ’em all but I definitely plan on re-watching Patriot’s Day, a good portion of which turned out to be way better than expected. I was really enjoying Ben Affleck‘s Live By Night (all hail Robert Richardson!), which I began to watch around 10:30 pm. Alas, my couch is too comfortable. Will try again later today. No Paramount screeners so far — no Arrival, no Allied, no Silence (hah!), no Florence Foster Jenkins.

From my Cannes Film festival review, posted on 5.14.16: Andrea Arnold‘s American Honey is the second truly exceptional film I’ve seen in Cannes since the festival began last Wednesday night. It’s a kind of Millenial Oliver Twist road flick with Fagin played by both Shia Labeouf and Riley Keogh (Elvis’s granddaughter) and Oliver played by Sasha Lane…but with some good earthy sex thrown in. There’s no question that Honey stakes out its own turf and whips up a tribal lather that feels exuberant and feral and non-deodorized. It doesn’t have anything resembling a plot but it doesn’t let that deficiency get in the way. Honey throbs, sweats, shouts, jumps around and pushes the nervy. (Somebody wrote that it’s Arnold channelling Larry Clark.) It’s a wild-ass celebration of a gamey, hand-to-mouth mobile way of life. And every frame of Robbie Ryan‘s lensing (at 1.37:1, no less!) is urgent and vital.

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I was in the Hollywood Arclight last night around 8 pm, buying a ticket for Allied so I could see the Silence trailer. After the purchase I asked one of the ticket guys “so what’s dying?” He looked at me oddly and said “huh?” I said, “You know, which films aren’t selling tickets?” “Oh, heh-heh…nobody ever asks me that,” he chuckled as he scanned some data on a screen. “Uhm, let’s see. Rules Don’t Apply…Loving…Elle.”

According to Boxofficemojo, Rules Don’t Apply opened on 1100 screens last night, and managed a $65,000 haul. Repeating: It opened on 1100 screens last night and earned $65K. In other words, it earned 59 dollars per situation. Five-nine. I’ve done the math over and over and get the same figure.

I ran this by a box-office analyst this morning, and here’s what he said: “This movie was never supposed to do well. Ever. It’s out of its time. [Beatty] should have made this back in 1975. Rules is really an arthouse release, but it made no sense to platform it” — i.e., open it on 20 or 30 or 40 screens and let the word of mouth build — “because it doesn’t have awesome reviews.”

I’m heartbroken that Rules turned out like it did and has now obviously hit the pavement. I half-liked it. It’s flawed, yes, and all over the place but brilliant in spurts and far from dismissable. Here’s my 11.12 review.

By the way: I told the Arclight ticket guy that he should really see Elle. “It’s taut and perverse and sexual and really different,” I said. “It’s really turns you around. And you can see it for free!” “Yeah,” the guy said, smiling, “but I’ve been really jammed.”

9:55 pm: Early this evening I bought a $15 ticket at the Hollywood Arclight in order to see the new trailer for Martin Scorsese‘s Silence, which I’d read wouldn’t be online until Saturday. I sat down just before the 8:15 pm show, pulled out my phone and read that Paramount had decided to release the trailer online tonight. Yes, I was surprised and a little pissed, but I’m not sorry I saw the trailer on a big Arclight screen. The film looks wonderful, fascinating, exotic…full of feeling. Ciarin Hinds! I can’t wait to see the whole magila. 5:50 pm: Hollywood Elsewhere will pay to see one of tonight’s pre-holiday showings of Allied so I can see the Silence trailer, which won’t appear online for another three and half days.

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Last week’s reviews were accurate: Patriot’s Day works, delivers, does the job. And it’s not a “Boston fuck yeah!” film until the last five or six minutes in a tacked-on epilogue that pays tribute to all the real-life participants, heroes and victims of the April 2013 Boston Marathon massacre. Make no mistake — if you edit out the tribute section and a heartfelt but unnecessary movie-ish monologue delivered by Mark Wahlberg, Patriot’s Day (CBS Films, 12.21) is director Peter Berg‘s best film ever. Really. It’s sharp, fast, crackling and on-target for the most part. Not entirely but close. The 90% that works really works.

The Patriot’s Day highlight is an adrenalized Act Two sequence that follows the Tasrnaev brothers (Alex Wolff‘s Dzhokhar, Themo Melikidze‘s Tamerlan) as they hijack a car and get into a wild-ass gunfight with local cops in Watertown. J. K. Simmons‘ character, Watertown Police Sergeant Jeffrey Pugliese, plays a highly significant part in this shoot-out, and J.K. is almost good enough to warrant an acting nomination. Confident as shit. Alas, it’s not enough of a part.

To his credit, Berg tried to emulate the Paul Greengrass aesthetic, and he more or less accomplishes that. (The handheld lensing is by Tobias Schliessler, and the bouncy, brilliant editing is by Colby Parker Jr. and Gabriel Fleming.) Blame the CBS Films/Lionsgate marketing guys for suggesting in their trailers that Patriot’s Day would be some kind of “Boston, fuck yeah” thing. I responded to that suggestion, but now I’m happy to report that it isn’t that until the very end. This is a very well-handled thing — not an AA but a solid A-minus. And that’s good enough.

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Ellen DeGeneres began to quake with emotion as she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom at the White House earlier today. She smiles, she beams, she starts to tear up, she shakes her head very slightly as if saying to herself “I can’t believe this is happening,” she looks down, the emotion wells a bit more, President Obama looks over to see if she’s okay and gives her a supportive hug, she looks up and glows, and then her eyes water over even more as he attaches the medal ribbon. I felt it. I was right there with her. The full ceremony is after the jump.

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In the immediate wake of the announcement of the Film Independent Spirit Awards nominations, the first headscratcher (which a colleague pointed out before I noticed it myself) was “why no Best Director nomination for Manchester By The Sea‘s Kenneth Lonergan?” Manchester is the Big Kahuna of nominees across the board (Best Feature, Screenplay, Editing, Actor, Supporting Actor) with Moonlight the runner-up, so Lonergan’s direction not being singled out seems strange.

The second surprise is the absence of Moonlight‘s Mahershala Ali among Best Supporting Actor contenders. Ali has been the overwhelming Best Supporting Actor pick among the Gurus of Gold and Gold Derby-ites for many weeks now, and keep in mind that the Spirits are totally in the tank for Moonlight this year. (Altman Award actor recipients can’t be nominated, but directors or writers can?) This doesn’t mean Ali won’t snag an Oscar nomination, but an element of doubt has obviously been introduced. Incidentally: A few weeks ago a colleague told me he thinks Hell or High Water‘s Jeff Bridges might have the best shot at a Best Supporting Actor Oscar. Except the Spirits have now selected Bridges’ costar, Ben Foster, as their nominee in this category.

Here are my spitball projections of likely winners:

BEST FEATURE: American Honey, Chronic, Jackie, Manchester by the Sea, Moonlight. Likely winner: Manchester By The Sea, especially with Moonlight‘s director-writer Barry Jenkins and the Moonlight cast already tagged as recipients of the Robert Altman award.

BEST FIRST FEATURE: The Childhood of a Leader, The Fits, Other People, Swiss Army Man, The Witch. Likely winner: The Witch because its’ easily the best of the five, although I could see Swiss Army Man sneaking out a win.

JOHN CASSAVETES AWARD: Free In Deed, Hunter Gatherer, Lovesong, Nakom, Spa Night. Likely Winner: Hunter Gatherer.

BEST DIRECTOR: Andrea Arnold (American Honey), Barry Jenkins (Moonlight), Pablo Larraín (Jackie), Jeff Nichols (Loving), Kelly Reichardt (Certain Women). Likely Winner: Andrea Arnold or Barry Jenkins, but probably Jenkins at the end of the day. HE preference: Arnold.

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I’ll finally be seeing Bridget Jones’ Baby. Missed the all-media last August but screener just arrived. Most of what I heard was “not bad, fairly decent, no harm,” etc. Which is roughly what you hear from a film with a 77% Rotten Tomatoes score. But honestly? My first thought when I opened up the package was the Owen Gleiberman hoo-hah from last July. “My view is that Owen was merely saying that the work wasn’t subtle enough,” I wrote on 7.3. “I think that’s a reasonable thing to observe. You can have all the work done that you want, but you can’t allow it to become a topic of conversation.” The Bridget Jones Baby Bluray/DVD comes out on 12.13. It earned a relatively pallid $24 million stateside, but the worldwide tally was $185 million and change.

Yesterday a video (posted by an Atlantic reporter) showed a nutter alt-right crowd cheering and offering Nazi salutes to Hitler-like statements from National Policy Institute‘s Richard Spencer. A Trump spokesperson offered the following limp-wristed response: “President-elect Trump has continued to denounce racism of any kind and he was elected because he will be a leader for every American. To think otherwise is a complete misrepresentation of the movement that united Americans from all backgrounds.” Translation: “We don’t want to alienate our alt-right supporters by condemning racism or ethnic cleansing. The alt-right understands what we mean. We’re with them but we have to phrase our comments carefully.” The bottom line is that Spencer and his kind would be hiding in the woodwork if Clinton had won, but now they feel free to be “out.”